RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #100 Top&Light

Wow! Ron! Your challenge has hit it’s first century!

Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge Image.

The prompt words – Light & Top

I was trying to be serious today, and wanted to write something really meaningful… it didn’t quite happen, all I could think of was silly stuff! Think it’s because I am in a heightened state of excitement with the Bloggers bash so close!

So here are my two entries!

Cake

Freshly baked sponge cake
A light dusting of sugar
To top it all off

Ritu 2016

Exposed

Please be most aware
If you are wearing a sheer top
Bright lights shine right through!

Ritu 2016

 

Thursday photo prompt – Isolated… #writephoto

Sue gave us another great photo prompt this week!

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Alongside the word Isolated, we have this photo to work with…

Imbolc 001 (269)

A dark silhouette of a building came into view.
“Perfect setting, isn’t it?”
Peter, looked over at Mandy, who was bouncing excitedly in the passenger seat.
“You know how I love a good Whodunnit Weekend, and I think they have surpassed themselves with the venue this time!”
I looked over at the view and had to agree. It wasn’t really my cup of tea, but I had wanted to impress her, and her mates told me that this was what she was into.
The building looked so… creepy. I was tempted to back out, but I couldn’t look like a wimp in front of her!
On the other side of the lane was a grim looking black forest… Oh, this gets better and better…
The saving grace was the view… That sunset. I was glad I had packed my camera. If nothing else, at least I could get some good shots for my portfolio.
Oh and the fact that if she was suitably impressed, I might get lucky!
With that thought, I pressed down on the accelerator.

TJ’s Household Haiku – Iron

Saturday is TJ’s Household Haiku Challenge – and the prompt word is IRON.

Image from Google – Shuttestock

I thought of the irons and ironing in India when I have been to visit. There are obviously irons on India, and most households will have one, but there is this luxury that us in the western world would appreciate greatly!

Even though I love ironing, (really!) when the heat is hitting 40 degrees C, there is definitely a chance that I won’t want to stand there pressing clothes!

So this is when you phone the dhobi wala, or press wala.  Basically the laundry, or ironing man.

He comes to your house with a bike that has a huge wooden table attached to the back of it, and a heavy coal fuelled iron, like the one in the image above, then he stand in your veranda and irons all your clothes for under £2-3!

Or if it is too hot,or you aren’t in a hurry, he takes your basket of clothes, and delivers them back to you later, fully ironed!

And they are ironed to perfection! You just have to be careful to explain if you have high fashion clothes that require creases in the places they are, or if you have jeans that want NO creases, because once that heavy iron hits your clothes, there is no going back crease-wise!!

So, onto my haiku (tanka) for today…

Therapy for me
A pile of un-ironed clothes
And a hot iron
Watching creases disappear
Satisfied – my job is done!

Ritu 2016

Happy ironing folks!

Books – SoCS June 4/16

Linda’s SoCS prompt this week…

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “book.” Use any meaning of the word as your theme, or simply mention the word “book” in your post. Enjoy!

I love books.
My collection of children’s books is pretty extensive.
It started before I even had kids of my own to be honest, as I have always had the Teacher hat on, and if I saw a book that looked fun, I bought it.
My mum is the same, but her shelves were full of Danielle Steele, and Catherine Cookson, and nowadays, any family sagas, and war time home front stories.
She bought us books too, so when I became a mother, she presented me with a small collection of books saved from when I was a little girl, and the joy at seeing my own kids reading books I read as a child is immense.
My wish would be to have a room that I could call my library, and be able to store all my books… but alas, I don’t have that luxury, so as I read physical books, I end up passing them on to friends, or my mum, and only keep a select few.
In fact this is why I decided to get a Kindle, or I should say I was gifted it! I have a wealth of literature at my fingertips, and I don’t need lots of space!
It isn’t the same as a real book in my hand, that feeling cannot be replaced with an electronic device, but at least I can still read!
But I will not be parted from my children’s books!
The bookcase in the children’s room is sagging at every level. 5 shelves jam packed with books, and piles in front of it too!
I have two other bookcases. One is full of teaching resource books, and the other, partly fiction, and even more resource books. Some of these books are obsolete, and I should get rid/sell them, or do something, but I just can’t!
I struggle to walk past a bookshop… the smell of new books, those unbroken spines… thousands of words waiting to be read… but I have to be strong… and if I slip, and find myself inside, I allow myself a little peak, a sniff… then I walk out with a new list of books to buy!!!

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I do whitter on… don’t I!!!

 

Writespiration #90 – Burnt Edges

Another interesting prompt from Sacha Black this week.

burnt edges

That’s what I want you to write about this week. Burnt edges. Maybe it’s the edges of paper, or burnt memories. Whatever you choose, include burnt edges somewhere in your piece. Write no more than 200 words.

So, here is my entry…

Gingerly she picked up the remnants of the fire. Mostly it was just ash left behind but there was one piece of paper that had stubbornly not burned fully.
Typical.
It was a photo, and her favourite one ironically.  They looked so happy in it, smiling into each other’s eyes.
What had happened? Wasn’t she good enough? Could she change anything?
Her friends had said that this fire would be cathartic, she would feel fantastic after purging him from her life with the aid of these ‘ceremonial’ flames.
They had offered to be with her, to sit there and throw insult after insult at the bastard, as she dropped all these memories in to burn, but she thought it would be better, just her and a bottle of wine for company. Then she could cry as well as let her true feelings out.
Looking at the photo, she felt it was a sign. She would keep this picture,  and every time she felt herself weaken, she would look at the burnt edges of the photo, and remind herself why she had to walk away…

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